


It's Coming Home

by lovelarry10



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, FIFA World Cup 2018, Fluff and Smut, Football, Friendship, Hyde Park, Liam Payne & Harry Styles Friendship, M/M, Morning Sex, Mutual Pining, Non-Famous Harry, Non-Famous Louis, One Shot, Oral Sex, Prompt Fic, Strangers to Lovers, Zayn Malik & Louis Tomlinson Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-14
Updated: 2018-07-14
Packaged: 2019-06-10 11:14:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15290316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovelarry10/pseuds/lovelarry10
Summary: Harry hates football and is reluctantly dragged to Hyde Park to watch the semi-final. It’s not the football that catches his eye though, it’s the cute blue-eyed boy at the next VIP balcony...Or the one where Harry and Louis are strangers who meet at the England vs Croatia semi-final match being screened in London and maybe find what it is they've been searching for.





	It's Coming Home

**Author's Note:**

> Here it is! I was asked by lots of people on Twitter to write this based on [this tweet prompt](https://twitter.com/lwtexists/status/1017398404480028672), and I couldn't stop thinking about it so here it is!
> 
> I really hope you enjoy it. Any football/factual errors are mine and mine alone, sorry.
> 
> My biggest thanks go to my lovely friend [Liz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dont_Stop_Larry/pseuds/Dont_Stop_Larry) for reading this through, and for giving me the title!

 

"Cheers mate,” Louis said as he took the dripping plastic pint glass from Zayn’s hand, sipping quickly at the foam on the top before it could drip any further onto his new Adidas trainers. He had only arrived at the park about an hour ago, the sun blazing down on him and he was loving every minute of it. His pass for the VIP section he had gained admission to was hanging around his neck, and the noise was deafening from the fans gathered in the main park.

Louis lived and breathed football. He’d played it throughout high school and Sixth Form, even joining the college team once he started his drama course. Now, at the age of 26, he didn't play as much as he liked, but Match of the Day was still a must-see programme on TV, and he enjoyed a good kickabout with his mates at the park as often as they could manage it. He also took his little brother Ernest to football once a week too, keen to instill a love of football in his only male sibling.

Louis took a seat on a metal bench that ran along the VIP area, nursing his pint in one hand, iPhone in the other. The anticipation for this match was high, and Louis had been tweeting all afternoon about it, bigging up his favourite players, reading some of the banter between the English and Croatian fans, adding his own two pence worth whenever he could. His notifications had blown up after he’d posted a particularly amusing meme, and he liked a few of the replies, a couple from his mates at work and a few from strangers too.

There was nothing like national football to bring people together, he thought, looking around at the plethora of England kits adorning people’s chests, some wearing hats, comedy glasses and some even had facepaint on. As much of a fan as Louis was, he was too old to be painting his face in flags, and anyway, it wouldn’t exactly look good with the trimmed beard he had going on right now. Zayn nudged him then, and Louis turned his attention back to him.

“So, predictions for the score?”

Louis took another swig of his beer, and waved at a few of Zayn’s colleagues who were making their way over, shuffling up to the end of the bench to make some more room. “Um, I reckon 2-1 to England,” he said, glancing down at his buzzing phone screen again.

“Nah, I reckon 3-0,” Zayn said confidently, throwing back his own pint now, wincing as a few drops dribbled down, soaking into the white fabric of his England jersey. He mopped at it ineffectively with a napkin he grabbed from behind him, but it didn't do much good. Instead, he shrugged and carried on chatting away to the people sat next to him.

Louis fixed his eyes on the big screens in front of them, showing the pre-match interviews. He couldn’t hear a great deal, the noise from the crowds below and the music blasting from the VIP area pretty much put paid to that, but he recognised a few of the pundits from all his younger years spent watching game after game, much to his mum’s exasperation.

“Sorry, can I squeeze on the end?” A man’s voice said, and Louis looked up, moving closer to Zayn to afford the man some room. “Hi, thanks for that, I’m Olly by the way,” and Louis took his hand, shaking it.

“I’m Louis, and no worries,” he said, taking in the man’s vivid yellow shirt, noting he had the same lanyard hanging around his neck. “You work for Barclaycard?”

“Yeah, one of their managers,” Olly said. “You?”

“Oh christ no, my mate Zayn here got me a pass so I couldn’t say no, always dreamed of being somewhere big like for a big game, since I couldn’t get out to Moscow for this.”

Olly nodded in understanding. “Yeah, flights were extortionate so when the big guns came round offering this place, I jumped at the chance. Nobody else in my office did, but fuck em, I’ll have a good time anyway. Always enjoyed meeting new people.”

“Me too,” Louis said, clinking plastic cups with the man, thinking it was nice to have made a new friend already. As the park started to sing along with the national anthem playing from the big screens, Louis laughed as Olly placed his hand over his heart, singing along to God Save the Queen in a very loud but beautiful voice. “Hey, you can hold a tune mate!”

“Cheers, bud,” Olly said, grinning as he finished the song, everyone applauding loudly. Louis wasn’t exactly a massive fan of the national anthem, but it still gave him chills whenever gathered crowds of people sang it in unison, proud of their English heritage. He put his cup down and clapped along with everyone else, going back to his conversation as the Croatian anthem played, everyone in the park pretty much ignoring it.

Louis spent the next few minutes while the players got ready making conversation with Olly and Zayn, the three of them happily getting on like a house on fire. He watched the screen as the scoreboard was put up in the right hand corner along with a clock, counting up the minutes of the back, and he held his breath in anticipation, waiting for the whistle that would say it had all begun, that England were chasing down the dream of making the World Cup Final for the first time since 1966, years before Louis was even born.

His eyes were so fixed on the screen, unwavering from their gaze that he hadn’t noticed the stare of a handsome long-haired man from the next VIP box along fixed on him, watching his every move from behind dark glasses. As the whistle blew and Louis cheered along with the crowds, the boy’s eyes didn't move from Louis’ form, thinking he’d found something _much_ more exciting than football to spend the evening watching.

.✫*ﾟ

“Hey, Li,” Harry called, taking a long sip from his rapidly warming bottle of water. As much as he loved the summer and the hot weather, he didn't like how it made him sweat, how it made every ice-cold drink he ordered warm in a matter of minutes, or how it made rather large elderly gentleman parade around topless, something Harry really didn't need to see. He shuddered as he caught sight of one such man in the crowd below, a hastily painted England flag on his hairy chest, smudged slightly with the sweat trickling down his torso. “Christ…” he muttered, averting his gaze.

“What’s up, Haz?” Liam asked, coming to stand at the railing next to his best friend. Liam was fully aware Harry wasn’t at all into football, and would have preferred staying home to read one of the submitted manuscripts from the publishers where he worked, but he had been insistent on Harry getting out of his flat, and enjoying a bit of rare British sunshine and national pride.

“Who’s the captain again? And what players should I be looking out for?”

Liam rolled his eyes as he sipped on his beer, knowing with Harry this information would go in one ear and out the other, but he carried on regardless. “Harry Kane is our captain, he’s a good guy. Ones to watch I guess… well, our goalie Pickford is brilliant, a real talent. There’s Trippier, Sterling and Dele Alli as well, they’re all good and should play well. We’ve got a good team though. Just make sure you cheer for the ones in white, okay?”

“I’m not that thick, Li,” Harry said, chugging back his bottle of water. He sang along merrily as the national anthem played, eyes raking around the crowds beneath him, people covered in England football shirts, girls in short summer dresses and sandals, children munching on picnics provided by their tired looking parents. As he looked over to his left, his gaze was caught by a handsome young man in a tracksuit top. He was staring at the big screen in front of their VIP sections, not singing, just watching.

Harry was curious as to why the guy had a long sleeve jacket on. He was burning up himself, despite the cool white cotton shirt he was wearing, and he was constantly fighting the urge to scrape his long hair back into a bun, the back of his neck sweating. Harry watched the man who had caught his eye make conversation with the men surrounding him, trying to work out whether any of them might be his boyfriend, or whether they were just work colleagues. He seemed particularly tactile with the dark haired man next to him, often slapping his thigh as they spoke, stealing his beer when his own ran dry. The other man seemed happy to let it happen, giving it willingly, and a twinge of something ran through Harry’s belly.

“Stop staring,” Liam said, nudging Harry with his elbow, snapping Harry out of his reverie, reluctantly dragging his eyes away from the handsome man. “You really need to get back on the dating scene Harry, you’re eyeing that guy like he’s your next meal.”

Harry scoffed at that, eyes back on the big screen. The whistle blew, and cheers erupted around as flags were waved, cheers of ‘it’s coming home!’ sounding out loudly from the patriotic fans. Liam sat down then but instead of joining him, Harry moved along the railing a bit to the end, bringing him closer to the VIP booth where the man was now stood, leaning against his own rail. Harry allowed his gaze to travel from the man’s head to his toes.

He liked the vintage looking England jacket he had on, the way it clung to the waist of the small statured man, snug around his hips where grey jersey shorts were sticking out, ending at his knees. The tanned skin of his calves looked good, dark hairs littering around them until the hem of his white socks, blue trainers finishing the look. Harry was sure the man was fairly sporty judging by his outfit, and he looked down at his own, frowning at his earlier choice of shirt and skinny jeans, topped off with brown chelsea boots. He stuck out like a sore thumb among the football fans, if he was honest.

As Liam and the others in his VIP box watched eagerly, Harry’s eyes remained firmly on the man. Liam was right. It was too long since Harry had dated, or even slept with somebody. He didn't really do flings, preferring sex to be meaningful and with someone he loved rather than casual, but sometimes, he felt ready to break his own rules. Harry’s last relationship hadn’t ended well, and he still hadn’t really gotten over it, preferring nights in to nights out with Liam and their friends.

It was only a few minutes, and emotions were already running high. Harry glanced occasionally at the screen, and only ripped his eyes away from the sporty man next door when Liam grabbed his bicep, a look of excitement on his face.

“What is it?” Harry asked, prising Liam’s fingers off before he could bruise him. His pale skin meant he bruised like a peach and the last thing he needed was unsightly purple marks up and down his arms.

“Fucking free kick already, this could be a great start,” Liam said, jumping around with nervous energy. “If we get an early lead, Haz, Christ… we could get this in the bag already.” Harry tried to look excited but he must have failed as Liam rolled his eyes and turned back to his colleagues who looked far more into the match than Harry did.

He did stare at the screen for a moment, and held his breath as the football player (they all looked the same if you asked him, in their identical white outfits) stood looking at the goal. Harry was already bored, willing him to just kick the damn thing already when the man ran at the ball and did just that. It sailed over the line of Croatian players, diving perfectly into the corner of the net.

The noise that sounded throughout Hyde Park then was absolutely euphoric, people screaming, pints of beer flying into the air as men, women and children jumped for joy, shocked and stunned that already England were winning, just five minutes in. Harry couldn’t help but get swept up in the joy, letting Liam scoop him up into a hug as they all screamed, clapping and cheering for the team who were celebrating in their own way on the big screen.

As Liam released him to grab yet another body, Harry’s eyes fell back to the boy in the other box, laughing at how he was jumping around like an excited schoolboy, arms and legs flailing everywhere as he cheered, hugging his friends, his pint flying into the air with his excitement. He smiled fondly until the boy looked his way and their eyes locked for a minute, Harry quickly averting his gaze behind his dark sunglasses. He felt his cheeks flush red under the man’s attention and swallowed heavily, risking another glance back. He was still looking.

.✫*ﾟ

“FUCKING GET IN!” Louis screamed at the top of his lungs, jumping up and down, not bothered that the rest of his much-needed pint was now on the floor thanks to his enthusiasm when Trippier’s kick had landed so perfectly in the net. Never in his wildest dreams had he expected England to take the lead just five minutes into the game, but they had and he couldn’t be happier.

Olly stood behind him cheering, grabbing Louis around the waist as he hauled him into the air, spinning him around before he set him back down, Louis laughing wildly even though he felt a bit dizzy now. He high-fived a couple of strangers, all swept up in the joy of the goal, people below cheering and screaming even minutes after the goal. Louis looked around him, a broad grin still on his face as his eyes moved around.

His attention was caught by a man in the next VIP box along, stood there in a billowing white shirt, long dark hair around his shoulders, dark sunglasses on his eyes. He wasn’t the type Louis would usually go for, not by a long shot, but there was something captivating about the man. He didn't have any football gear on at all, one of the only people Louis could see not to be wearing anything England related, but he didn't care. He could feel the man’s eyes on him, even from behind the lenses of his sunglasses and Louis chuckled as the man hurriedly looked away, staring back at the big screen.

Feeling slightly calmer after the excitement of the goal, Louis leaned against the metal railing in front of him, still staring into the other VIP box. His gaze didn't waver as Olly came and stood next to him, saying something about Trippier’s goal, how clean the kick was, and how skilled the young player was. Louis nodded along, sure the man was speaking the truth, eyes still unmoving. Eventually, the long-haired man looked back, and hesitantly raised a hand, waving at Louis.

Louis raised his eyebrows but waved back, holding his left hand up in greeting. They both grinned at the same time, Louis loving how the dimple popped in the man’s left cheek, only adding to his cute look. He liked that the man was clean shaven, unlike himself, and he had the strange urge to run his fingers through the man’s long curls,  see if they were as soft as they looked. A loud chorus of gasps rang through the stadium then, and Louis flicked his eyes over to the big screen, relieved to see Croatia had missed an attempt at goal.

As captivating as the man in the next box was, Louis wanted to focus on the match so he moved away from the railing, heading for the bar at the back to grab another beer. He saw Olly was running low as well, so ordered a second before he headed over to where his friends were still stood. Zayn had moved next to Olly, and there were discussing the formation of the players, whether or not England were playing defensively enough. Louis tuned out, wishing he could hear some of the commentators banter.

As England missed yet another attempt at goal, and Louis could feel his frustration rising, he wandered around the box, making small talk with a couple of people about Kane, Sterling or the referee and his decisions, he kept flicking his eyes over to the other man, aware he was watching his every move. Louis couldn’t resist swaying his hips slightly as he did, aware that his shorts with the words BEAMS across his ass were probably more than eye-catching. He laughed loudly at a joke from a stranger as they chatted, throwing his head back unabashed as he cackled.

“No fucking way,” he said through his laughter. “If we lose, I’ll go fucking spare. We’re one-nil up already mate, surely we’re onto a winner already?”

“Have you seen the England team play before, mate? They always start well and lose it towards the end. I guarantee you, we’re gonna lose this one, Croatia are already playing well.”

“Well, where’s your fucking team spirit? England are gonna fucking win, it’s fucking come home!” With that, Louis stalked off, feeling anger bubble inside him at the man’s blatant slating of his beloved England, and went back to the railing. The man was in the corner by the time he got back, and looked puzzled at Louis’ angry face. Louis just shrugged and sipped on his pint, noting the man only had a bottle of water. He wondered if he was a designated driver for the night, or just didn't like alcohol.

As the half time mark approached, Louis was feeling a little jittery that England hadn’t managed to put another goal away. It was what they needed to keep momentum going, to keep everyone positive. There was only a minute of extra time on the clock, and Louis chewed on his nail as he watched, the Croatian team picking up speed and tactics. Before he knew it though, the whistle blew and the first forty-five minutes were over. England were winning, and Louis hadn’t felt happier in a while. He glanced back over, looking for the curly haired man, but felt something akin to disappointment in his gut when he realised he’d disappeared.

.✫*ﾟ

Harry clapped when the whistle blew for half time, quickly tapping Liam on the shoulder.

“I’m going to find a toilet, I need a wee,” he said, his friend nodding and taking Harry’s water bottle from him. As much as Harry hated using the portaloos at events like this, needs must and he headed out the back, before the rest of the VIP box could beat him to it. He was surprised he needed the loo to be honest, feeling like he should have sweated out the water he was throwing back by now, but still, he couldn’t not go.

He carefully went down the slippery stairs, covered in beer, water and what looked like the runny remains of several ice-cream cones, joining the short queue at the male cubicles, much shorter thankfully than the one for females. Harry text his mum and sister while he waited, feeling hot as the sun beat down on his back. He could feel beads of sweat trickle down his spine, dipping into the waistband of his jeans, and he pulled his shirt away from his skin. He was now at the front of the queue, eyes flitting between the two cubicles as he waited for one to be free.

The smell of wee and chemicals filled the air, and already Harry was desperate to get back to the box, to maybe get an ice-cream to cool him down.

“There you go,” a raspy voice said, and Harry’s head snapped up, feeling stunned as his eyes locked with the blue-eyed boy he’d been staring at for the better part of an hour. “Hello? Curly?”

“Um, shit, sorry-” Harry said, stumbling to grab the door from the man who was still stood there, holding it open for him. “Um, thanks..” The man smiled, and Harry couldn’t stop from staring at the crinkles by his eyes, the scruff that clung to his cheeks, his perfectly straight teeth. The man just laughed and touched Harry’s shoulder before he walked away.

“You gonna have a piss mate or can I go?” A gruff voice from behind Harry said, and he hurried into the cubicle, locking the door behind him. He did his business, taking a few deep breaths before he headed out, not meeting the eyes of the man behind him as he headed for the little handwashing station, just covering his hands from a pump bottle of antibacterial gel and walking away.

Just before he headed back into his box, he noticed a small, familiar figure leant up against the steps into his box, eyes glued on the mobile phone in his hand. Harry’s heart pounded as he wondered what to do, whether or not he should approach the man and for once, he decided to be brave. He stepped over, his foot now on the first step and finally, the man looked up, meeting his eyes. Harry shoved the sunglasses up from his face onto his forehead, holding back his sweaty hair, and smiled softly.

“Hey,” Harry said, and the man smiled back. “Enjoying the match so far?”

“Yeah, good that we’re in the lead already, just hope we can hold onto it until the end,” he spoke back, and Harry already loved his voice. It was much higher than his own, but it seemed to suit the man somehow, and Harry already felt he could listen to it forever. “Don’t think I’ve seen you pay a lot of attention to the match, though…”

Harry blushed at the realisation that the man knew he had been watching him, and he touched his shoulder again, Harry’s skin burning under his touch. “Yeah, I’m, uh, I’m sorry about that…”

“I’m not,” the other man shrugged, grinning at him. “Louis, by the way. Nice to meet you, lad.” He stuck his hand out, and Harry took it, loving how tiny it seemed within his own. “Got to say though, you’re letting the side down not wearing any England gear…”

“Oh, H-Harry, Harry Styles,” he said, hating that he was stumbling over something as basic as his name. He’d been saying it since he was about two, why was he suddenly finding it hard? “I’ll be honest with you, Louis. Football really isn’t my thing. My mate Liam dragged me along to this, and wouldn’t let me say no, so yeah, I don’t exactly fit in.” He smiled wryly at Louis, liking how the man didn't seem bothered about his dislike for the game despite his own obvious love of it.

“And here I was thinking we could be friends,” he said suddenly, turning around and walking off. Harry’s heart fell and he went to turn and head back up the steps again but was interrupted by loud laughter, and Louis walking back to him, a cheeky grin on his face. “Only kidding! Each to their own, wouldn’t force anybody to like the game just cos it’s the best thing in the entire world.”

“Oh, please-” Harry couldn’t help but blurt out. “Give me a good book over a game anyday.”

“Bloody hell, you want to get yourself lynched?” he said, looking around to make sure no one else had heard him. Cheers sounded up in the park behind them, and Louis’ eyes widened, realising the match was probably about to start. “Well, enjoy the rest of the game, yeah?”

“You too, you probably will more than me,” Harry said with a smile, and shook Louis’ offered hand again. “Nice chatting to you.”

“And you!” Louis said, shoving his hands deep into the pocket of his shorts as he headed back to his own VIP box. Harry just stood watching as Louis climbed the steps, jumping up them in a far too sprightly manner than Harry couldn’t help but feel fond about. With a sigh, he climbed the steps to his own box and made his way back to his friends, ready for another forty-five minutes of sporting hell.

.✫*ﾟ

“How long does it take to have a piss?” Zayn said, frowning at Louis as he sat back down, watching as the match began. The sun was still blazing in the sky, but Louis didn't fancy another pint. Instead, he grabbed a bottle of water from an ice box at the side of the box and sat down next to his friend.

“Sorry, I, um… got chatting to a guy,” Louis said, willing his red cheeks to cool down, not wanting Zayn to know he’d got the hots for someone. If he did, his friend would be relentless with his mickey-taking and Louis wasn’t sure he was in the mood for that. They sat in silence for a while, watching as the Croatian team started out with a vengeance, already running rings around a very tired looking England team.

“Shit, they’ve come back well,” Louis said, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth, already fretting over the way their team were playing. He pulled the zip of his jacket down a bit, feeling a little warm and glanced over, watching Harry as he stared at the screen, still chatting to his rather muscular and heavily tattooed friend. He wondered for a second if this was the Liam Harry had mentioned, and ignored the flare of jealousy that burned inside him as this man pulled Harry closer, an arm slung easily around his shoulders.

“Oi, stop giving them the evil eye,” Zayn said, tapping Louis’ foot with his own. He looked over to Harry and Liam for a second. “Do you know them or something, Lou?”

“Nah,” Louis shrugging Zayn’s arm off his shoulder, not needing to feel any hotter than he did already. “I mean, I got chatting to the curly haired one by the loos, his name’s Harry…”

“And you like him?” Zayn raised his eyebrows and Louis just shrugged, knowing Zayn could see right through his lies. Zayn clapped him on the back, making Louis splutter out the mouthful of water he’d taken and he spun around, glaring at his so-called friend. He looked up to see Harry laughing at his misfortune and just stuck his middle finger up at him, making him laugh more.

“Fuck you, Curly!” he called, and laughed back as Harry just shrugged, palms up as he dragged his sunglasses back down, putting them over his eyes again. Louis kept his own stare on Harry, letting it roam down to his small but curvy bum and Harry turned away, rejoining the chat with his friend. “Shit…”

“God, you like him a lot, don’t you?” Zayn said, both of their eyes swinging back to the big screen as tension started to build in the park, Croatia now running rings around the England team. Louis and Zayn both clenched their fists as the ball danced around in the Croatian box, too near to the goal for Louis’ liking, and there was an audible sigh of relief from the gathered crowds when the England goalie booted it all the way to the other end of the pitch. “Shit Lou, next World Cup, we gotta be there, no matter how much it costs us.”

“Right, and I’m really gonna afford that on a teacher’s salary, aren’t I?” Louis said, rolling his eyes. Zayn was a pretty successful artist, about to afford most things he wanted, and didn't understand Louis’ budget was much stricter, and that he had to stick to the given holidays, he wasn’t just allowed time off as he pleased. “This is the best I’m gonna get Z, and I’m happy with that, for now at least.”

Their attention was back on the big screen, and Louis started chatting with Olly again now he’d rejoined their little group. As the Croatian team took possession of the ball, Louis stood and headed for the rail, nervously playing with his fingers. One of the Croatian strikers made a move, and there was a loud boo as the ball flew into the net, levelling the score.

“Fucking wank shit bastard twats!” Louis shouted out, making a couple of people in the crowds look up at him with a frown. “What?!” He couldn’t help but hear Harry’s laughter at his outburst and turned to face him, hands on hips, seriously pissed off now England had conceded a goal, something that, in his opinion anyway, should never have happened. “I know you don’t much about football, Harold, but that’s the other team that scored, not us.”

“I can see that from your annoyed little expression, Lou,” Harry called out, cringing at his easy use of a nickname for Louis, despite knowing him all of about ten minutes. “You do know it’s only a game, right?”

“Oh, you did not just say that to me,” Louis said, anger bubbling again. He scrunched the water bottle in his hand, feeling the warm liquid seeping into the mesh fabric of his trainers, eyes fixed on Harry’s. “Yes, it’s a game, but it’s national pride at stake, Harry. Football is our bloody game, and the Croatians are bettering us every step at the moment, this is a fucking joke.” He turned away, arms folded across his chest now as he continued to watch the game.

He noticed out of the corner of his eye Harry’s hair gently bouncing on the breeze, and for some reason, the sight of it calmed him somewhat. “You got a favourite player then, Curly?” he called over, and Harry looked back, pushing his sunglasses back up into his hair. Louis thought to himself that Harry looked very handsome like that, and his fingers itched again with the urge to touch his hair.

“Um, well, the goalkeeper is doing a good job, and um, the one…” he tailed off before he laughed, bending over with his hands on his thighs. “I haven’t got a bloody clue, Louis. The only reason I know the goalie is because he’s in yellow, not white like the rest of them.”

Louis couldn’t contain his laughter at that, and scrunched his eyes up, checking the score before his attention turned back to Harry. “Well, I’ve have to teach you all about the game sometime then.”

“Is that a challenge?” Harry called back, eyebrows quirked at him, and Louis just shrugged with one shoulder, silently hoping it was. “Look, stay there…” he suddenly vanished and Louis turned back to the big screen, watching in silence for a few minutes until he felt something on his shoulder, a presence behind him that made him shiver. “Hi Lou…”

He shuddered as Harry’s low voice rumbled in his ear, warm breath tickling down his neck, and he looked over his shoulder, directly into Harry’s green eyes. They weren’t a green Louis had ever seen in someone’s eyes before, and he found it hard to take his attention away from them, completely taken by Harry. “Oh hey… how’d you get in here?” Louis asked, noticing Harry’s VIP pass was very different to his own.

“The guard slipped off to the loo so I took my chance, thought I’d take the chance to get to know you a bit better,” he said, reaching out to move a lock of Louis’ fringe that had fallen down near his eyes. “Oh, sorry… I’m quite a touchy-feely person.” His cheeks flushed at the admission, and he shoved his hands into the back pockets of his jeans, trying to stop himself touching any more parts of Louis that he shouldn’t. Not yet, anyway.

“No worries, Harry. I work with 5 year olds… they have no boundaries, trust me.” Harry was a little surprised at that, and his face must have echoed that as Louis elaborated, eyes back on the big screen. “Yeah, I’m a teacher in a primary school. Bloody hard work but I love it. Stopped drinking already, can’t be going in to class hammered tomorrow.”

“Nah, not a good idea,” Harry mused, leaning over Louis’ back and gripping the railings. It was only when he saw one of Louis’ friends giving him a curious look that he realised what he’d done and straightened himself up again, stepping out of Louis’ personal space.

“Hey, come back, that was kinda nice,” Louis muttered, enjoying the feeling of someone behind him, watching the game with him. He wasn’t usually too fond of being around men that were much taller than him like Harry was, but he felt like Harry was going to be the exception to most of his self-imposed rules, if the past fifteen minutes or so were anything to go by.

“Hey, Z, this is Harry, the guy I met by the loo,” Louis said as Zayn got nearer. “Harry, this is my best mate Zayn, he’s the one who got me the pass for today.” They shook hands and chatted for a moment, Louis waving over at Harry’s friend who was staring at them. “That your boyfriend, Haz?”

“Fuck no,” Harry spat out with a laugh. “God no, Li is as straight as the day is long. He’s been my best mate since we were about 5, we’re like brothers really. I love him to bits, but never in that way. God, no.” He shuddered at the thought. “Anyway, I prefer my men to be smaller and curvier than Li.” He met Louis’ eyes for a second and they both smiled slightly at Harry’s forwardness, Louis blushing at the insinuation he might be exactly what Harry was looking for.

“Right, eyes back on the game, Haz. If we don’t concentrate, we’ll never win.” Louis spent the next half an hour or so talking Harry through the game; the offside rule, fouls, flags and all manner of technical terms as question after question purged from Harry, and much to his surprise, Louis found himself enjoying answering him. The whistle blew at ninety minutes and Louis cursed under his breath.

“Does that mean it’s a draw?” Harry asked innocently, and blushed at the burst of laughter around him.

“Hey, fuck off, leave him alone,” Louis snapped, moving closer to Harry as if to defend him from his big, bad friends. “He doesn’t know. No, love, it means they go to extra time, another 15 minutes each end. If that ends in a draw, then it’s penalties. We need to not let it get that far though, I can’t bear the stress of penalties.”

Even Harry, a football novice, knew about penalties, and he hoped it was over before that point as well. Louis could feel the tension in the air, and there was a low hum of conversation around Hyde Park as fans mused over the result so far, wondering if England could claw back the lead after what Louis had to admit was a pretty dismal second half.

“Come on lads,” he uttered under his breath. “Now’s the time to pull it out of the bag.”

.✫*ﾟ

Harry listened to Louis muttering under his breath, words of encouragement he clearly hoped would be stolen by the breeze and whipped over to Russia, pushing their team to victory. While Harry wasn’t hugely bothered about the result, he was bothered by how much he wanted to see Louis happy, and that of course meant an England win. The whistle blew for the start of the first fifteen minutes of extra time, and Louis leant over the railing again, eyes fixed on the match, totally ignoring Harry now.

He stood, wondering if he should just leave and go back to his own box and friends again, but Louis peered at him over his shoulder. Harry took that as the encouragement he needed to step up behind Louis again, leaning over him as they watched together. It felt oddly comfortable, being like this with Louis, and Harry couldn’t help himself leaning in slightly more to sniff the collar of Louis’ jacket, liking the musky cologne seeping from it.

Louis must have been hot, because he stood up and slipped the jacket off, using the sleeves to tie it around his slim waist. Harry gulped as he took in Louis’ body in his slim fit white t-shirt, and resisted the urge to push his hands up and under the fabric, to touch Louis’ soft skin. Instead, he resumed his position behind him, the pair talking quietly about the match action, ignoring everyone around them.

“No… no, no no no no, OH FUCK!” Louis shouted, thumping the metal rail with his fists as the ball flew into the Croatian net, taking them 2-1 into the lead. Louis looked visibly angry so Harry took a step back, looking around him at the devastated faces. He looked at the clock, working out there was only a couple of minutes of this half left, and stood nervously, shoulders hunched as he prayed the England team could get something done, anything to put the smile back on Louis’ face. They didn't, and the atmosphere was low at the whistle, signalling a break of a few minutes.

The first fifteen minutes had passed by quickly, and Harry could sense the stress radiating from Louis. “Fuck, Haz. We’ve got fifteen minutes left to get this in the bag. They’ve gotta get their fingers out of their arses and get the fuck on with it.” Harry ignored the twitch in his jeans at Louis’ words, and focused instead on the team talk that was being shown on the big screen, mens in bright green bibs mingled in with the team on the pitch, listening the manager who was donning a rather snazzy waistcoat Harry wouldn’t mind trying on himself.

“Here we go,” Harry said, getting more into it as the final fifteen minutes of football began. He had a bit of an idea what was happening on the screen now as Louis had filled him in on most of the rules, and while he was still a little clueless about who was who, he was now hoping England would win, and felt his heart fall every time someone in a black kit took possession of the ball. Each time that happened, Louis tensed in front of him as well, and it took all of Harry’s self-control to not wrap his arms around Louis and hold him tight, to ease his worries.

The minutes ticked away, the England team lost a couple of great opportunities to score and Louis was becoming sadder by the minute. “Fuck, oh my god, we’re not gonna do it, are we?” he mumbled, and Harry stayed silent behind him, praying that the team could equalise. When the whistle blew and the Croatian celebration aired on the screen, there was a sort of stunned silence around the park.

Where once there was happiness, hope and pride, there was now sadness and loss, everyone looking like their nearest and dearest relative had died rather than the fact England had just lost their football match and were out of the World Cup. Harry couldn’t help but roll his eyes at a couple of crying men sat on the grass below them, thinking that was a bit over the top really and instead turned back to Louis, hating the look of sadness on his new friend’s face.

“Shit, I’m sorry, Lou,” he said, reaching out a hand to put on Louis’ shoulder, squeezing gently. Louis surprised him by putting his own hand on top of Harry’s, leaving it there, their warmth radiating together as they took in the atmosphere, seeing people hug each other, offering comfort as best they could. “I really thought we’d win, not gonna lie.”

“Me too, Haz,” Louis said, sighing heavily and dropping his head, staring at the floor. “See ya later, Olly,” he called to the man in a bright yellow shirt, waving at him as he slipped away. Harry shuddered as he suddenly realised he was going to have to say goodbye in a matter of minutes, and he really, _really_ didn't want that to happen. “You okay, Z?”

“Yeah, mate, you?” Zayn questioned, and Louis pulled away from Harry, letting Zayn hug him for a moment. “Pretty shit though, right? Really thought we had that after leading so early on. England always fluff it though, don’t know why we got our hopes up to be honest.”

“Hey, they have to break the mould sometime, it could easily have been today,” Harry said, and he was pleased he did when Louis smiled at him, Harry feeling happy that he was able to put that smile back on his face again. “Um, I guess I’d better be getting back to Liam, we’re sharing an Uber home.”

“Right, okay then,” Louis said a little reluctantly, his hands back in his shorts pockets as he kicked an empty plastic cup around with the toe of his shoe. “Well, it was really nice to meet you, Harry.”

“Yeah, you too, Lou. Thank you for teaching me and not losing your patience with me,” he laughed, and Louis smiled again.

“It’s kind of in the job description,” Louis reminded him, and quickly went up onto his tiptoes, giving Harry a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek. Harry struggled to stop himself sinking into it, instead patting Louis on the back before he stood up again, replacing his sunglasses onto his face. He straightened out his shirt, and took a deep breath in before raising a hand at Zayn and Louis.

“Right, well, enjoy the rest of your night, bye Zayn, bye Lou.” He turned and walked away, determined not to look back, knowing if he did, there was a chance he wouldn’t leave. He felt sadder than ever as he descended the few steps at the back of the box, flashing his VIP pass to get back into his own and slumped in the free chair next to Liam, who was tapping away at his own phone. “Hey, Li.”

“You alright? You seemed happy enough over there with those guys,” Liam said, indicating Louis’ box with a nod of his head. Harry just shrugged and leaned back, hands on the base of the chair as he tilted his head to the sky, feeling much cooler now the evening air was setting in, the sun slowly sinking over the London skyline. “Guess we should head home, the Uber is coming in about ten minutes, it’s gonna wait outside the entrance we came in through.”

Harry nodded and stood up, picking up a few empty water bottles and throwing them in a nearby rubbish bin as he followed Liam out, joining the long queue of people slowly leaving the park, the mood much more sombre than when they had come in just a few hours ago. They headed slowly for the gate, Harry being jostled by some rather drunk football fans, and he ignored them, trying to curse when several of them stood on his toes, and he was grateful he’d chosen to wear his boots rather than flip-flops or sandals that night.

“Harry, fuck, Harry - stop!” He turned around, hair flinging itself into his face as he whipped around, looking for the person the voice belonged to. He kept looking frantically until the flash of a familiar jacket popped up, and someone grabbed his hand, yanking him out of the line into a shady area under a thatch of trees. “Shit, sorry about that, I just-”

“Lou? Are you okay?” Harry said, voice filled with concern as to why Louis had taken him out of the queue to leave, worried something was wrong.

“Yeah, I’m fine, I just- I don’t want to say bye, not yet.” Something that felt like desire flashed through Harry’s veins then at Louis’ words, entirely pleased he felt the same way and stepped closer to Louis, cheekily bringing his hands up to rest on Louis’ hips, sliding them gently under the jacket now adorning his new friend’s body again. “Shit, I don’t usually do this, I’m a bit crap at this-”

“At what, exactly?” Harry teased, still staring down at Louis, noticing the red flush on his cheeks.

“Well, um… telling someone I like them.” Louis swallowed and let his own hands rest around Harry’s hips then, breath hitching as their bodies moved closer together. “I, um, shit, sorry if this is too forward, but I don’t live far. Do you wanna… maybe come back to mine, have a coffee or something?”

Harry wasn’t usually one for one night stands, but something about Louis made him want to say yes so he nodded, spotting Liam waiting for him just a few steps away, affording them some privacy. “Yeah, Lou, I’d like that. I’d like that a lot. Lemme just go and tell Li, I’ll be back in a sec.”

“Okay,” Louis breathed, kicking at a patch of dirt as Harry walked away, nervous as he approached Liam.

“You’re going home with him, aren’t you?” Liam said as Harry walked over, smirking at his friend. Harry just grabbed the hair tie from his wrist and pulled his hair back into a bun, nodding at Liam. “Well, alright, just be safe and call me if you’re not coming home, okay?”

“Will do, thanks Li,” Harry said, giving his friend a quick hug before he walked off and Harry went back over to Louis. They gave each other a gentle smile and rejoined the line, getting knocked around a bit as the people in the crowd got rowdier. Louis winced as a much larger man bashed in to him and Harry decided to take the lead a bit, reaching down and holding Louis’ hand tightly in his own, keeping their bodies close as he marched them towards the exit. “Lou, I assume we’re heading in the right direction?”

“Yeah, we can just walk from here if you like, it’s a nice enough evening,” Louis said, and Harry nodded, continuing on, sighing as they finally exited the park. Louis took over now, dragging Harry off to the right where the crowd started to thin. There weren’t many cars on the roads, the pubs and bars were all full, and the pair walked in silence, neither of them dropping their hands even though there was really no other need to keep holding on at all. Harry smiled at the fact, and just enjoyed the warmth of Louis’ hand, sort of hoping their walk might last all night long.

.✫*ﾟ

Louis started up the conversation again as they walked down the streets, cooling down as they walked, smiling at the odd person that walked past them, swinging their hands between them. He asked about Harry’s job, Harry filling him in about his work as an editorial assistant at a big name publisher, seeming actually interested in his work, slightly amazed by how many manuscripts Harry claimed he could get through in a week.

“So you really _don’t_ get out much,” Louis quipped, making Harry laugh and shake his head. Their pace slowed as Louis led them over to a building with a nondescript black door, inserting a key into the gold lock and dragged Harry inside, making sure it was closed behind him. They trudged up two flights of stairs, coming to a stop outside a door with a brass number 4 screwed to it. Louis fiddled with the bunch of keys again, selecting one with a blue tag and forced it in, wiggling it around until the door swung open, and he allowed Harry to enter first.

Both men kicked off their shoes as Louis locked the door and slid the safety chain across, flicking on the lamps around his small sitting room. “It’s not much, but it’s mine, and it’s home,” he said, flicking his eyes around to make sure he’d left nothing incriminating anywhere. Harry smiled as he took in his surroundings, and Louis watched his eyes flicker over his picture frames, trying to puzzle out who was who after their chat walking home.

He stepped over, and slid an arm around Harry’s waist as he used his free hand to point out his siblings and parents in the many photographs. “I’m a family man,” he finished, shrugging.

“Hey, me too,” Harry said, turning around in Louis’ hold, resting one socked foot on top of Louis’. It was a weirdly intimate gesture, and Louis cleared his throat, pulling away slightly. He didn't notice Harry’s expression fall as he walked into the kitchen, running the tap to make sure it was cold.

“Do you want a drink? Tea? Juice?”

“Um, just water would be fine, thanks Lou,” Harry called, and when Louis walked back in, two glasses in his hands, he was already on the sofa, legs curled up underneath him. Louis flicked the TV on in the background, a programme analysing the match bit by bit playing. Louis watched for a minute, listening to Harry swallow his water down. Feeling a bit hot, he got up again and went through to his bedroom, stripping off the sticky clothes he’d had on all day and walked back into the sitting room in a baggy vest and football shorts, a similar spare outfit for Harry in his hands.

“Oh, thanks,” Harry said as he took the items, and instead of asking Louis to use his bedroom or bathroom to change in, he just stood where he was and pulled off his shirt and jeans, slipping the new items on. Louis tried to tear his eyes away from the sight of Harry’s bare torso, a little stunned at the amount of tattoos he had littering his body. He knew Harry had a few on his arms, but he was stunned by the ones on his chest and stomach, far too turned on by them and resisting the rather large urge to run his tongue across them, not caring if Harry was still hot and sweaty from his hours in the sun. Harry sank back down onto the sofa and drained the rest of his water, setting the glass down on the wooden coffee table in front of them. He wriggled around, trying to get comfortable and eventually, Louis took pity on him, grabbing his ankles and plopping them down in his lap.

Harry looked a little startled but settled back against the cushion, the whole thing feeling oddly normal considering Harry had never been to Louis’ flat before, and the fact they’d only known each other a few hours.

“Harry?” Louis said suddenly, feeling brave as he squeezed Harry’s ankle slightly, liking how soft his skin felt under his fingertips as he stroked.

“Hmm?” Harry said, turning to Louis, a half smile on his face as he looked to Louis, their eyes meeting for a moment.

“Are you going to kiss me or am I going to have to wait all night?” Harry just threw his head back and laughed before he brought his legs up and straightened himself up, sitting up and facing Louis, cross-legged now. He reached a hand forwards and took Louis’ before he brought the other up, cupping his cheek. He ran the pad of his thumb over his cheekbone, making Louis’ breath hitch with anticipation. Usually, he didn't feel anything when men touched him like this, shutting his eyes and losing himself in the moment but when Harry touched him… it was different. There was something about the curly-haired stranger in front of him that affected Louis, and he felt Harry’s hand come round to the back of his head, gently pulling him closer.

Louis allowed his eyelids to drift close as Harry finally pressed their lips together. It was everything Louis wanted and more. It was nothing more than a gentle touch of lips, Harry’s large ones encompassing Louis’ smaller ones as they got used to the feel of each other, but god, it was everything. Louis tilted his head to the side slightly and let Harry take control of the kiss, the complete opposite of how he would usually act in a first kiss.

Slowly, Harry’s tongue licked along Louis’ bottom lip, making him shiver. Louis kept his eyes closed as he slowly parted his lips, granting Harry’s tongue entrance into his mouth. The taste of him on his tongue was already so much, and Louis moaned low in his throat as he adjusted his body, scooting closer wordlessly, his hands threading through Harry’s hair as they both deepened the kiss. His tongue danced across Harry’s for a moment, and he pulled back slightly, sucking on the tip of it, drawing it into his mouth and he hummed around it. Harry’s hand was massaging at the back of his neck now, and Louis closed his lips, pecking Harry’s pouting lips for a second.

He pulled back, and felt a little shocked at the state of Harry from just one kiss. His lips were red and spit-slick, his cheeks burned and his breath was coming in short, sharp bursts, as if he was struggling to keep himself under control. He blinked quickly, biting his bottom lip between his teeth and just stared at Louis, resting his hands on Louis’ thighs.

“Shit,” he mumbled, flicking his hair back from his face. “Lou… that was, like, the best first kiss I’ve ever had. God… I wanna do that again, all night preferably.”

“I’m not going to stop you,” Louis said, and surprised himself by getting onto his knees and walking on them over towards Harry, planting himself directly in his lap. Harry groaned as Louis’ ass met his crotch, his hands automatically coming up to his hips as he swivelled slightly, getting himself comfortable. He could feel Harry’s arousal underneath him, and that just spurred Louis on, grinding his hips around as he pushed down, feeling the rise and fall of Harry’s chest under his hands. “I was watching you watching me tonight, you know. Wondered if you’d get the courage to come and talk to me or if you were just gonna stare…”

“I like looking at pretty things,” Harry said in a low voice that resonated deep inside Louis. “Thought you looked so sexy from where I was stood… couldn’t take my eyes off your body in those shorts… how you kept fixing your fringe and how into the match you were. Seeing you all passionate really did it for me.” Louis dipped forwards, kissing the juts where Harry’s collarbones stuck out beneath his skin, sucking lightly on the pale skin, licking over when he pulled away, pleased with the slight red marks he was leaving in his wake.

“Mmm, taste good,” Louis mumbled, circling his hips again, feeling himself getting hard inside his football shorts, the flimsy fabric doing nothing to conceal his burgeoning erection. He could feel Harry getting harder underneath him though so he didn't feel bothered, just relieved that Harry clearly felt the same way he did. “Don’t usually go for guys like you, though, you know…”

“No?” Harry muttered, guiding Louis’ slim hips with his hands, enjoying how Louis was teasing him, how the weight of him felt on his thighs. “Doesn’t seem like you mind right now…”

“Oh, I don’t. When I saw you… outside by the loo… I wanted you. Your hair, your legs in those jeans… wanted to see if you had any more tattoos as well. And…” he slid his hands under the hem of Harry’s t-shirts, pushing it up and off his body, letting his hands roam all over the warm skin of Harry’s chest. “...you do. Love this butterfly…” his fingertips trailed over it and he could feel Harry’s abs contract under his touch, smirking slightly at how easily he was affecting the man underneath him.

“Lou, what do you want? Tell me what you want, babe,” Harry rasped out, digging his fingers in to the love handles just peeking out at the top of Louis’ shorts, making him whine and press down again, the springs of Louis’ sofa groaning under the unusual movements and weight of both men. Harry leant back and just let his eyes graze over Louis’ body, admiring the curve of his waist under his baggy top, needing it off. Louis could sense that and grabbed the bottom of it, yanking it over his head, throwing it across the room, not caring where it landed.

“Want you,” was all Louis could get out, pulling Harry back into another passionate kiss, opening his mouth immediately for Harry’s tongue. Harry could obviously sense what he wanted because he kept Louis’ body close, forcing his hips up slightly, pressing their erections together, making them both moan, unashamed in what they wanted now they’d started. “I want you to fuck me, Harry. Is that-”

“Fuck, yeah,” Harry muttered, nodding and biting down gently on Louis’ bottom lip. “I can- yeah, I can do that. But only if…”

“Only if what?” Louis replied, his brow furrowed as he wondered what condition Harry could possibly put on having sex with him. Several thoughts ran through his mind then but he was stopped still by Harry’s next words.

“Only if you fuck me after. Wanna feel what it’s like to have you inside me too, Lou.”

“Holy fuck,” Louis muttered, nodding slightly, pressing a palm down onto his cock, needing something more than what he was getting. It had been too long since Louis had been with someone that liked fucking as well as being fucked, and the thought made him shudder slightly. His past few boyfriends had only wanted to top, and while Louis enjoyed being the bottom, he did have the urge every now and then to top, and the thought of being buried deep inside Harry drove him wild with desire. “Yeah, I’d love to fuck you, Haz....”

All of a sudden, Harry gripped tightly under Louis’ bum and stood up. Louis squeaked and wrapped his legs tightly around Harry’s waist, linking his ankles behind him as Harry kissed him again, Louis feeling a bit dizzy now.

“That way,” Louis said, jerking his head in the direction of his bedroom as Harry stumbled down the hallway, and Louis was just grateful Harry was entirely sober and hopefully not about to drop him. Harry kicked the door open with his foot and turned and slammed Louis against it, the noise echoing through Louis’ empty flat. It had been too long since someone had taken charge of Louis, and he was loving it, loving how Harry was manhandling him and taking what he wanted. “Fuck, Harry… bed…”

.✫*ﾟ

Harry blindly nodded at Louis’ instruction and pushed his tongue into Louis’ mouth again before releasing it, carrying Louis over to the bed and crawling over his body on top of Louis’ navy sheets. He sat up on his knees, looking around the room for a minute, a stream of moonlight coming in through the window. He stared down at Louis’ torso, at the scripted tattoo across his collarbones, the number on his chest and the multitude of sketches down his arms, admiring his tanned and toned torso, running his hands over it.

“You’re so fucking fit, Louis…” he purred, dipping his head and running his tongue between his pecs. Louis wriggled underneath him and moaned, fisting his hands into Harry’s hair as Harry moved across to Louis’ nipple, sucking and nibbling at it gently, feeling it harden in his mouth. “Gonna make you forget England lost tonight… all you’ll think about is my cock and how good it feels to have me fuck you.”

“Oh god, yeah Haz… want you to fuck me so hard I can feel you tomorrow… need you baby-” Harry nodded and turned his attention to the other nipple, licking over that one too, enjoying how much Louis was responding to him. “Shit, love that. No-one’s ever - fuck, more - ever done this before. Oh Harry…”

“You have stuff, Lou?” Louis nodded and pointed at the bedside cabinet. Harry leaned over, leaving Louis palming himself as he rifled around in the top drawer, eventually pulling out a half-empty bottle of lube and a couple of condom packets, laying on the mattress next to Louis’ body, ignoring the other things he passed in order to get those, instead just raising an eyebrow at Louis, who had the decency to blush. “Naughty boy.”

“Hey, I’m single and I have needs,” Louis protested, allowing Harry to hook his fingers inside the waistband on his football shorts and pull them off, leaving him in the navy boxers. He was tenting them obscenely and Harry palmed at him for a few minutes, applying enough pressure to make Louis whine and crave more touch, without pushing him too close to the edge. Harry wanted this night to last as long as it could, and he wasn’t risking anything, not yet. ”Come on, Harry…”

Harry surprised him then by bending down and licking the tip of his cock through his boxers. The fabric was already damp with precome and Harry groaned as he tasted Louis, already wanting more. Louis was writhing around underneath him, and Harry clamped his hands on Louis’ hips, holding him as still as he could for a minute before he released him in order to take his own shorts off. He crawled up Louis’ body and laid down on top of him, their cocks brushing against each other through the fabric of their underwear, making them both pant and push down for more.

“God, Harry, touch me please-” Louis begged, uncaring that he was sounding more than desperate by now. Harry stared down at him and pulled Louis back into a kiss, loving how easily their mouths worked together, how good Louis tasted and the fact he wanted to put his mouth to better use.  Harry kissed his way down Louis’ body, stopping at each nipple just to tease Louis a little bit more, and then made his way down his happy trail, licking over his hip bones before sliding his fingers inside his boxers, looking up at Louis who just nodded.

Harry slowly pulled down Louis’ boxers, revealing the trimmed area of hair first, then he lifted up the elastic and pulling them down, finally revealing his cock. Harry gasped slightly, already mesmerised by how good Louis looked. “You have a beautiful cock, love,” he mumbled, his fingers wrapping around the warm shaft, getting a sense of how Louis felt in his hand. “Can’t wait to see how it feels inside me…” He leaned down and kissed the head before Louis kicked his underwear all the way off, leaving him bare.

“Hey, I want to see you too, can I…?” Louis questioned and Harry nodded, getting up onto his knees and letting Louis sit up. It was clear he wanted to be the one to undress Harry so he let him, seeing Louis’ fingers shake as he pulled Harry’s underwear off his body, jaw dropping. “Wow, I didn't - fuck, Harry, you’re seriously big…” Harry chuckled lightly at that. He knew he was a pretty big boy, but seeing the way Louis reacted to him made him cup his manhood, feeling a little too exposed all of a sudden. “Babe, no… Let me see you, please?” Harry nodded and let Louis take his wrists, moving his hands out of the way until he was bared for him again. “Such a gorgeous cock, love.”

Harry blushed and pushed Louis’ shoulders back against the bed, allowing their hard lengths to brush together again. A bead of precome fell from the tip of Harry’s cock onto Louis’, and Harry thought it was the most erotic thing he’d ever seen in his life. Grabbing the lube, he made quick work of coating the first three fingers of his right hand, pushing Louis’ thighs apart with his clean hand, his palm on the soft skin on the inside of his leg, looking down and admiring the sight of Louis on display for him.

He trailed his tongue around the tip of Louis’ cock, making him cry out and slowly, he rubbed a finger in small circles around Louis’ rim, feeling it flutter under his touch and already, he wanted to bury himself in Louis’ warmth, feel him fall apart on his cock. Slowly, he pushed forwards, eyes flicking up to Louis’ to check he was okay but his eyes were scrunched shut, his fingers grabbing the bed sheet as Harry pushed his finger in deeper, sucking on the head of his cock, moaning at the taste of Louis’ precome.

“Fuck! Harry, oh god, shit, so good-” Louis mumbled out, trying hard to keep his thighs apart as Harry started to move his finger in and out, reacting to the slight burn since it had been a while since he had been with another man in this way. “Harry, fuck-” He dragged one hand up and over to Harry’s hand, letting it rest there as Harry sucked and bobbed his head, his free hand wrapped around the base, sliding up and down to help distract Louis from the work his fingers were doing.

Harry wasted in no time in pushing a second and third finger inside too, popping off his cock every now and then to look at how Louis’ body looked stretching around him, and it was making his own cock throb, craving to be inside Louis. When he could feel Louis was loose enough, he slowly removed his fingers and wiped them down on the sheet, picking up the small foil packet from near Louis’ chest. Surprisingly though, Louis snatched it and tore at it with his teeth.

“Let me,” he said softly, and he sat up a bit, taking the condom and rolling it down Harry’s length before coating it in lube. “How do you want me?” He blushed as he asked the question, and Harry just shrugged, leaning in to kiss Louis quickly. Harry was surprising himself at how much he enjoyed kissing Louis, since he usually felt kissing was something to be saved for a relationship, but it was too good to not do.

“However you want to be,” Harry said, keen for Louis to enjoy every moment. “I don’t mind Lou, as long as I get to have you.”

“Shit, behind then, want you behind me,” Louis said as he scrambled to get on his hands and knee, all modicums of modesty long gone. He arched his back, pushing his ass further into the air, and Harry just groaned, clamping his hands down on Louis’ ass, squeezing the flesh. “Fuck, get in me Harry-”

Harry nodded and held his cock with one hand, the other gripping at Louis’ hip now, and slowly pushed forwards, biting down hard on his lip as he penetrated Louis, his slick cock sliding inside with ease. He groaned as he looked down, watching himself disappear into Louis, and it was almost too much. He stilled his hips, staying deep inside Louis for a minute as he closed his eyes, taking a few deep breaths.

“You can move, please move,” Louis whispered, and Harry reached up a hand, stroking down Louis’ back, touching gently.

“I will, just - gonna come if I don’t take a sec,” he muttered, slowly starting to rock his hips when he felt the bubble of orgasm start to recede slightly. Louis felt tight and hot around him, the drag on his cock, even through the condom, was amazing and he already wished he could go all night, that Louis would want to be fucked by him forever. They just fit, and the sight of Louis’ curvy body underneath him was just the best thing Harry had ever seen. The swell of his ass, the curve at his waist as it dipped in, flaring out again at his beautifully wide hips - Louis was stunning.

His head was ducked down, facing the mattress and Harry was desperate to see his face, those cheekbones that could cut glass, the thin lips that already Harry loved kissing, and his floppy fringe, that he was sure was soaked with sweat already. He continued to thrust for a minute, picking up his pace as Louis moaned, each thrust punctuated by a noise from Louis that drove Harry wild, making him fuck in harder and harder. He smirked at the wobble of Louis’ ass each time his hips made contact, and again, he let his hand come down to touch.

“Fuck, Lou… feel so good around me babe… so warm and tight, love fucking you so much.” Louis just nodded Harry’s words, stroking at his own cock between his legs, and only moaned when suddenly Harry pulled out, leaving him empty. Harry gripped his hips and flipped him over, his hard cock standing out from his body as he looked down at Louis with dark eyes. “Need to see you, wanna watch you come on my cock,” he mumbled and Louis nodded, crying out as Harry pushed back in in one stroke.

He started a punishing rhythm straight away, not holding back at all as he pounded into Louis, holding his legs far apart with his hands, enjoying the bob of Louis’ cock as his body moved with Harry’s thrusts. They were both chasing their own orgasms now, sweating and hot, Harry’s hands eventually coming off Louis’ legs to rub his cock, his nipples, anywhere he could touch.

“Make me come, Harry… need to come.” Harry nodded and took Louis’ cock again, stroking in time with his own thrusts, the sound of skin slapping on skin filling the room as Harry fucked Louis harder and harder, both mumbling each other’s names. “Oh fuck, Harry, oh Harry, I’m coming…” Louis arched his back and Harry just watched as Louis lost himself, coming hard over his chest and stomach as Harry stroked his cock through it, his own hand getting covered in Louis’ release as well.

He kept pounding at Louis despite the fact Louis was wincing slightly, oversensitive now, and he could feel the bubble of orgasm deep in his stomach. He reached out, grabbing Louis’ hand and squeezed as he started spilling into the condom, Louis’ name falling from his lips repeatedly. He could feel Louis’ eyes on him, and he opened his own again, staring deep as his orgasm took over his body. Harry shook with the force of it, Louis’ ass clenching tightly around him, and when the feeling finally subsided, he slumped down, his body falling on top of Louis’, come coating his own chest now but he didn't care.

After a minute of them both catching their breath, Harry sat up and carefully pulled out, removing the condom and tying it off, dropping it next to the bed on the floor. He stumbled towards the bathroom and grabbed a flannel from the side, wetting it with warm water and returning to mop up Louis’ chest before doing his own. As he came back into the bedroom, he hovered with uncertainty, wondering if Louis wanted him to leave now they’d both gotten what they wanted.

Louis cracked open an eye, frowning over at Harry, who was cupping himself again, naked as the day he was born. “Stay?” The smile that Harry felt envelop his face made Louis’ question fully worth it and he nodded, stalking over towards the bed. Louis held the edge of the sheet up and Harry climbed underneath it, slightly stunned as Louis crowded close, tangling their legs and pressing their naked bodies together from head to toe as he hugged him. “You were amazing,” Louis mumbled, feeling slightly sore as he shifted, now resting his head on Harry’s chest, fingers playing in the slight dusting of hair.

“So were you, best sex I’ve ever had,” Harry said honestly, meaning every word. “Thank you for letting me stay tonight.” He kissed Louis’ lips again gently, feeling his breathing slow down, telling Harry he was slipping into sleep already, sated from their amazing sex and orgasms. He was sure, though, that he didn't muddle the words Louis let fall from his lips as he fell into sleep.

“Hope you stay more than just tonight.”

.✫*ﾟ

Louis stirred the next morning, feeling hot and sweaty and sighed, rolling over. His eyes flew open as he realised there was another hot body in bed with him, turning his head, getting a mouth full of Harry’s wild curls. He grinned to himself, brushing the bushy hair out of the way and kissed Harry’s lip gently, not at all caring about morning breath. Harry wriggled for a second, the arm draped over Louis’ waist pulling his close for a minute before he woke up, smiling softly at Louis.

Already, Louis thought Harry was the most beautiful man he’d ever seen, and even in a just-woken up state, that was most definitely still the case. His green eyes sparkled in the sunlight flooding in the room thanks to the fact neither of them had bothered to draw the curtains before they’d fallen asleep in each other’s arms.

“Morning,” Harry rumbled out, and Louis couldn’t ignore how his cock twitched at how much deeper Harry’s voice was in the morning, fresh from sleep. He suddenly felt more awake and surged forwards, kissing Harry’s lips with force, the younger man’s hands coming up around Louis’ back, holding him close. They both had morning erections, and groaned as they brushed, both turned on by the kiss and waking up to each other.

“So you don’t regret having sex with me yesterday then, coming back here after the match?”

“No, not at all, far from it,” Harry reassured him, pecking Louis’ lips again. “I’m so happy we met to be honest, Lou. Feel like, I dunno, that we connected somehow. I’ve never felt like that with anyone before, not someone I’ve just met. You’re, well, um, you’re special.”

Louis blushed and buried his face in the side of Harry’s neck, licking at the skin ever so slightly. Harry was grinding his hips forward now, and Louis could feel Harry’s hard cock rhythmically pushing against his thigh, making him too horny for the time of day. He wanted sex again, that much he knew, and a quick glance at the clock on his bedside table told him he’d woken early enough to make that happen if Harry wanted it.

“Want you, Harry,” he whispered, feeling his cheeks heat up at his honesty. He slipped a hand around and behind Harry, dancing his fingers up and down Harry’s cheeks, pressing forwards where he wanted to be. Harry whined and pushed forwards, nodding, rutting desperately. “Can I have you this time?” Again, Harry nodded, and Louis reached for the lube, but when Harry went to move, he pushed him down again, instead, propping his leg up on his own hip, parting his cheeks that way. “No, stay there, let me open you up like this. Kiss me, babe.”

It took only a second for Harry to comply, their lips crashing together hungrily as Louis’ fingers worked deftly inside Harry, Louis enjoyed the warmth of Harry’s body, seeking out the spot he knew would drive Harry crazy. He knew when he had found it because Harry’s back arched, and his cock throbbed against Louis’ thigh, blurting precome all over it, and Louis just smiled, rubbing it over and over, making Harry cry out Louis’ name again. That was a sound Louis thought he could get used to.

“Wanna ride me?” Louis asked, and Harry nodded, sitting up and watching as Louis sat back against the headboard, stroking his cock for a moment as Harry fumbled with the condom packet, opening it and rolling it down Louis’ hard cock. He kissed the tip before he straddled Louis’ thighs, and reached behind him, taking Louis’ cock in hand, hovering above it before he slowly started to sink down, groaning as Louis filled him up.

Louis wasn’t as long as Harry was, but he was thick, and Louis could feel Harry stretching around him. He pulled his face down into a kiss, wanting to make him forget about the pain for a second, humming contentedly as Harry bottomed out, sat on his lap now, Louis’ cock entirely inside him.

“Fuck Lou… feel good inside me babe…” Harry muttered and Louis smiled into yet another kiss. Slowly, Harry lifted himself up and sank back down again, shutting his eyes as Louis filled his body. Louis’ hands were on his hips, aiding his movement but for the most part, he stayed still, letting Harry use his strong thigh muscles to lift himself up and down, watching as he took what he needed. As Harry opened his eyes again, he smiled softly, staring into Louis’ eyes. Louis shuddered under the intensity of Harry’s gaze and in that moment, it felt like something more than just sex. There was something there between him and Harry, he could feel it.

Harry leaned back then, placing his hands just above Louis’ knees and worked himself up and down that way, and begged Louis to touch him. Louis did, stroking his cock with one hand, the other tweaking Harry’s nipples, making him moan in pleasure, his cock leaking precome all over Louis. Neither of them minded, and Louis could happily have stayed there all day, just watching Harry fuck himself on his cock, never letting him leave his bed.

“God, make me come, Lou, please-” Harry begged and Louis planted his feet down on the bed, watching as Harry adjusted himself onto his knees, head hung as Louis started fucking up and down quickly, pounding Harry’s body hard, both men moaning. It didn't take long after that, Harry coming as Louis’ cock assaulted his prostate over and over thanks to the angle, and he all but screamed but Louis’ name, come covering Louis’ chest, and sending Louis into orgasm as well, coming hard into the condom.

Harry reluctantly climbed off, collapsing down on the sheet next to Louis, panting heavily as he tried to catch his breath. “Shit… is sex meant to be this fucking good?” he muttered, and Louis chuckled, nodding to himself, running his fingers through the puddle of come on his chest. “Wanna shower before work?”

“Yeah, I do. Wanna join me?” Harry smirked up at him and nodded, and the pair stumbled into the bathroom together, naked and kissing under the spray of hot water, washing themselves clean, barely able to keep their hands to themselves.

As Louis dressed himself for work in his bedroom, he could smell something drifting through the flat and walked out, stunned to see Harry in just a borrowed pair of black boxers cooking at his stove. Harry grinned cheekily at him, flipping an omelette he’d seemingly put together before he slid it onto a plate in front of Louis, along with a cup of tea.

“Hope you don’t mind, just wanted to make myself useful. Two good orgasms deserves a good breakfast,” he said with a smile, and crunched on the apple he’d taken from the fruit bowl on Louis’ counter.

“Come here,” Louis said, tapping the chair next to him, and Harry headed over, putting his bare feet on top of Louis’ as they sat together in silence, eating and drinking. “God, this is delicious. Thank you, love.”

“My pleasure,” Harry said, pride on his cheeks.

“Um, do you have work today?” Harry shook his head, swallowing down the bite of food before he opened his mouth for the forkful of omelette Louis was offering him, chewing thoughtfully.

“Nah, I can work from home today. I’ll go home when you leave and get on with-”

“You don’t have to,” Louis whispered, not taking his eyes off his plate. “I mean, you can if you want but you don’t have to leave. I’d like it if you didn't, actually. I can finish early today, it’s my PPA day so I can work from home after lunch. I’d like you to be here when I get home, Harry.” He swallowed heavily, hoping that wasn’t too much too soon and took a chance, stealing a glance at Harry who looked a little stunned.

“I’d love to be here too,” Harry said, reaching out and taking Louis’ hand in his own. “Not that sure I ever want to leave, actually.”

“Then don’t,” Louis said, leaning forward to kiss him. He slipped off the stool, and stood between Harry’s bare thighs, snaking his arms up and around his neck.

“Things like this don’t happen to boys like me, Lou,” Harry said softly, his hands resting gently on top of the shirt Louis had put on that morning, a soft mint green that went well with the navy shorts he’d put on to combat the warm weather. He looked handsome, and Harry couldn’t take his eyes off of him. “I don’t meet nice guys like you who actually like me for me.”

“Well, I do. Like you for you, that is. I think you’re pretty bloody wonderful, Harry Styles.” He pressed their lips together, their intimacy belying the fact they’d only spent one night together. Part of his brain was screaming out at him that he was mad, that he shouldn’t trust a stranger in his flat all day, that he was moving way too fast, that this was just a one night stand.

He walked away, grabbing his messenger bag and brought the strap over his head, resting it on his right shoulder. He walked over to a little drawer in the unit by the front door and fished around until he found the spare key, handing it to Harry. “In case you want to go out, so you can get back in.” Harry smiled and set it down on the worktop, not having anywhere to put it thanks to his lack of clothes. “I really hope I’ll see you when I get in, Harry.” They kissed, and just as Louis put his hand on the doorknob, Harry called out.

“Lou! Wait!” He dashed over, damp curls swinging around wildly as he held out his phone. “Just realised I don’t even have your number. Might be quite nice?” Louis laughed and tapped his in, Harry sending him a quick text so he had his too. “Okay, well have a good day. I’ll see you later?”

“For sure,” Louis said, and pecked Harry’s lips, closing the door behind him and walked off, a big smile on his face. England might have lost last night, but in all other respects, Louis thought he’d most definitely won. He’d had amazing sex with a gorgeous man twice in the space of twelve hours, had woken up with said gorgeous man in his bed that made him an amazing breakfast, and promised to be there after work. Louis hoped he really would, and headed off up the road towards his bus stop, for once, full of hope.

.✫*ﾟ

**One Year Later**

Harry leant against the wall of the stadium, checking his watch to make sure he hadn’t got there ridiculously early or late, and frowned when he saw he was bang on time. He was sweating already, the sun beating down on his shoulders, his hair in a messy top knot on top of his head. His white sunglasses were on his face, and his trainer clad foot was against the wall while he waited patiently. He started people-watching as they walked past him, families, friends, couples all heading in to the match and Harry couldn’t help but smile at their enthusiasm.

“Oh god, sorry I’m late!” A familiar voice called out, and Harry suddenly had an armful of his boy, their bodies pressed close as they hugged despite the heat. Louis tilted his head back for a kiss, and Harry ducked his own, pressing them together, trying to keep it chaste thanks to their public setting. Louis’ bag was hung from his shoulder and his cheeks were red, his hair held back by a thin headband, inspired by Harry’s recently rediscovered love of headscarves.

“No worries, baby. You’re here, that’s the main thing.” They kissed again and Harry smiled into it. “You like it then?” He stepped away from Louis and the wall and did a twirl, nearly stumbling which made Louis melt into laughter. “Shit, stupid clown feet. Lou? It looks okay?”

“Yeah, um, amazing,” Louis said, feeling his cheeks heat up. Harry had borrowed one of his older Man United jerseys from him that morning, moaning that despite dating a football mad man that he still didn't own any tops of his own. Louis had found one that fitted, but now, seeing it on Harry’s body, the word TOMLINSON and his number, 28 on the back across Harry’s broad shoulders made him feel things. He bit his lip and held out his arms again, Harry hurrying forwards into them.

“A year ago today we met,” he mumbled. “How you’ve grown in that year, love. Now you know the offside rule, you know the ins and outs of a football match, and you-”

“Have fallen more and more in love with you every day,” Harry finished with a cheeky grin. “I do, though, Lou. Love you, so, so much. I’m glad I met you by the loo last year. Best year of my life, by far.”

It had indeed been an exciting year for the pair. Harry actually hadn’t left Louis’ flat after their night together following England’s loss. He stayed over every night since, and just three months later, gave up the lease on his flat and moved in with Louis, realising they’d be better off pooling their incomes and sharing the bills rather than him paying for somewhere that was essentially just a storage space. They’d met each other families just a month later, and sickened all their friends with their closeness and obvious love for each other.

Louis hadn’t been scared with how quickly he’d fallen for Harry. The boy had quickly wormed his way into Louis’ life, his heart and soon, everything centred on making Harry smile every day, no matter what. They feel asleep together each night, bodies close as Louis spooned Harry from behind, their favourite way to sleep no matter how warm it was, and never parted without telling the other how loved they were. It was soppy, but there was something about Harry that made him want to give him the world.

“Ready to go in then?” Louis said, rifling around in his bag for their tickets to the match, the first one they had attended together since the famous England match of last summer.

“Born ready,” Harry joked. “Let’s see if Man U can finally bring it home, unlike England last year huh? Is it coming home, Lou?”

“As long as _you_ always come home to me, Harry, I really don’t care,” he said, and yanked Harry’s hand, pulling him close and kissing him hard again. Harry grinned as they pulled away, and they linked fingers again as they walked towards the stadium, joining the crowds walking in. Louis just patted the bag at his side, the important box safely within that he was planning on surprising Harry with today, the platinum band inside hopefully ensuring it would be him Harry would come home to forever.

“What you looking at, Lou?” Harry asked as they stopped at the back of a queue, feeling Louis’ intense gaze on him.

“Home,” Louis shrugged, and smiled to himself. Home was Harry, and with any luck, Harry felt the same and would say yes to Louis’ question later on, the promise of forever so close now. Louis got onto his tiptoes and quickly kissed Harry, resting his head on his arm afterwards, squeezing his hand with his own. “Mine,” he whispered, voice drifting away on the breeze.

“Yours,” Harry agreed, resting his head on top of Louis’. “My home.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, I hope you liked it! Comments and kudos are always appreciated.
> 
>  
> 
> [Rebloggable tumblr fic post here if you feel like sharing!](https://chloehl10.tumblr.com/post/175890529151/now-available-on-ao3-word-count-14734-rating)


End file.
